Music to My Ears
by It's ya grill
Summary: Life is strange. Very strange. And it likes to kick you in the balls. Jeremy Heere knew this for a fact. (ahem, yes, bad summary, anyways there's gonna be Boyf riends at the end, soo... bear with me.)
1. He(e)re it begins

**AYYYYY IT'S TIME FOR ANGST I GUESS LMAOOOOO *looks at my other fics* shit *runs away from responsibilities*** **hahaha well anyways, this shit is messed uo so look out guys ;)** **Disclaimer: I don't own Be More Chill! And I never will! Thanks and enjoy!**

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Music to My Ears

Life is strange. Very strange. And it likes to kick you in the nuts a lot. Jeremy Heere knew this for a fact. Life was shit before he got a SQUIP. But he had Michael. Then life became shittier when he got a SQUIP. And Michael was blocked from his view, too! No way he could have survived that.

But he did.

Now, post SQUIP, things have never been worse. Well, how is that possible? Oh, just wait until you hear...

Jeremy slowly opened his eyes. What was it about this time...? Oh. Right.

He sighed and sat up. He still felt tired, but how is that possible? He went to sleep at like... 7pm? Probably. Jeremy got out of bed and stretched as lyrics from a song softly whispered their melody into his ears. He passed his computer and went straight to his closet to pull out his usual attire. He stood in front of a mirror and glared at his reflection. He took off his shirt to reveal an unhealthy looking frame.

 _My body's looking wrong..._

Jeremy shook his head to dispel the words. It didn't work, he could still hear the lyrics sing their song in his head. He sighed and pulled on his other shirt and gently pulled his cardigan over the bandages on his arms. He pulled on his pants and looked into the mirror again. His eyes looked over his reflection, looking for an inconsistency. His hair was messier than normal. His eyes had dark rings under them and looked more sunken in than normal. Somewhat red as well. He looked paler than normal, but its not like anyone would notice.

 _Or care. They don't care for you._

Jeremy's eyes widened as both of his hands flew up to his head. That- that sounded like the squip. It can't be back- no, no its not back.

 _'I'll make it leave. Like always.'_

Jeremy pulled a worn down bottle out of his closet with shaking hands and drank some of the contents. It tasted disgusting, but what else do you expect when you mix a mixture of a lot of different hard liquors and a crazy old soft drink? The music died down, but was still there.

 _Bye bye baby blue, I wish you could see the wicked truth..._

Well, at least the voice was gone again.

 _You can't get rid of me, Jeremy. I will always be here._

Scratch that. Its still there. Jeremy took another swig of the 'medicine'. Disgusting.

 _It's bad to go to school drunk, Jeremy._

"Fuck off, you can't tell me what to do anymore." Jeremy answered with a raspy voice. Hr rubbed his eyes and splashed some cold water in his face.

 _Looking better already. Not._

"Thank you for your input now _shut the fuck up you weeb floppy disc._ " Jeremy hissed. He ain't taking none of the squip's shit today, nuh-uh.

He slung his backpack with "BOYF" still written on it over his shoulder and ran down the stairs. He snagged an orange from the fruit bowl before opening the door and leaving.

"Guess dad was still asleep..." he mused. He pulled out his headphones and looked for _the_ playlist.

It wasn't that hard to find, since it's pretty much the only playlist he listens to nowadays. Jeremy sighed as he got onto the bus and hit play. What better way to drown out music than with music? Some people say that you're gonna go deaf by 30 if you listen to music this loud. Hah. _'I'll just kill myself before I go deaf. It's better than living, anyways.'_ Jeremy thought. He pulled slightly at some loose threads coming out of his cardigan. No one sat next to him for the rest of the ride. Just like always. Jeremy peeled the orange in silence as he listened to song after song. No one bothered him either. That's better than normal. _'I guess.'_

He bit into an orange slice as the bus pulled up to school.

Good morning, time to start the day.

Jeremy was the last to get off the bus. He didn't mind much, as long as the driver didn't accidentally drive on with him. Yeah. That happened once.

But whatever.

Jeremy threw away the orange peel and bit into another slice. He stood outside the entrance and ate while he watched the other people pass. At he ate his last slice, he spotted a red hoodie in the small crowd entering the school.

 _'Fuck'_

Jeremy threw away the last piece and mixed himself into the crowd.

 _Damn. Don't have the guts to talk to the stoned loser, even after 3 months? At least he can't mess up your reputation anymore than you already have._

 _"Shut. Up."_ Jeremy growled. He had to admit though, the squip had a point.

Jeremy sighed as he removed the taped up notes from his locker. Probably people telling him they're gonna kill him or that he should commit suicide. Just the usual. But this time, there was a note that looked different.

 _Probably "go burn in hell" sloppily written._

 _'Whatever.'_

Jeremy opened the note with an eye roll. Probably someone from the play again. Jeremy's eyes widened once he saw the handwriting. _'Oh fucking jesus, it's from Michael!'_

Jeremy's heart was pounding. He wasn't sure if he wanted to read the note or not.

 _It's not like I can stop you._

 _'That's right.'_

Jeremy slowly unfolded the rest of the note:

 _Yo, Player Two,_

 _Why have you been avoiding me, man? It sucks hardcore. Is it something I did? ...Or is it just me? Am I not good enough anymore?_

Tears smudged the letters.

 _I get it if I'm not. You're a cool guy with tons of friends, why hang out with an old school stoner? Just... you could have told me face to face if you wanted to stop being friends instead of avoiding me. It's like you have that stupid squip again..._

The squip feigned being wounded.

 _Ouch, that hurt!_

 _Say something, man!_

 _Uhh... Sincerely,_

 _Player One._

Jeremy stared at the note wordlessly. Michael... still wants to be friends...? Jeremy could feel a pair of eyes staring at him, so he spun around to see Michael looking at him sadly. Jeremy started to walk over to him, but Michael ran away. Of course, Jeremy followed him but he couldn't catch him. The bell rung and everyone began to file into their homerooms. Good thing Jeremy and Michael are together in first period... right?

 _'Absolutely not.'_ Jeremy thought bitterly as Michael threw away his 15th note. Jeremy was running out of paper, so he had to stop.

 _Just talk to him after class._

 _'Like I wasn't going to do that.'_ Jeremy thought with an eye roll. The bell rang shortly afterwards and he hastily stuffed everything into his bag. Jeremy let everyone else out but then cornered Michael and blocked his path. "Michael, I-" "Shut it, _Heere."_ Michael spat. "I saved your ass even though you left me to have a panic attack in a _fucking bathroom,_ and this is the thanks I get?" He shook with fury. "Michael, please, just let me explain-" "Explain _what._ I already know I'm too lame to hang out with the cool 'lone wolf' Jeremy Heere."

 _Wow. He's mad._

 _'Shut up or I'll make you.'_

"Michael-" "So tell me," Michael cut Jeremy off again. This time with tears in his eyes. "What do I have to do to make you _like_ me?" Jeremy looked at Michael with wide eyes. "What... no, dude... it's not you..." Jeremy's eyes prickled with tears. "I- I thought that you wouldn't want to be friends with me I- god, Michael, I didn't think you'd still want to be friends with an idiot like me I- _fuck, I'm so sorry_..." Jeremy choked out. His throat felt tight and his eyes burned. He couldn't summon the courage to look at Michael.

 _'I did something wrong, I said something bad, he definitely hates me now, why wouldn't he?'_

 _Chill. Try and look up at Michael._

Jeremy let his eyes wander to Michael's face. Guilt was written all across it. Jeremy didn't like that look on his face. He fell onto Michael and hugged him. "Michael, please..." Jeremy didn't know what to say.

Apparently he read Michael's expression wrong.

Michael shoved Jeremy off and stormed out of the room as Jeremy hit the floor.

What...

No...

This isn't... it can't be... real... Michael would _never..._

 _Wake up and smell the roses, Jeremy. Michael hates your guts, just like the rest of the school. You shouldn't have made Christine drink the Mountain Dew Red. You would have been better off with me._

Jeremy didn't get up. He laid there. His throat was tight. He could barely breathe. Tears were freely falling and he couldn't stop sniffling even though it burned his lungs. There wasn't a teacher to excuse him. No one came looking for him.

 _'Who would?'_ he pondered. Not Michael. Nor Rich. Or Jake. Not Christine. Brooke. Chloe. Jenna. No one. He's not important enough.

 _Exactly. But turn me back on, and I can change that. I can make it all better._

Jeremy numbly got up. Everything will be better when he reactivates his squip...

He bought a bottle of Mountain Dew and screwed off the cap with shaking hands. This is the right decision... everything will be better...

Jeremy brought the bottle's opening to his lips. No regrets. No going back. No red. No Michael.

 _'Everything about me is going to be wonderful.'_

 _'Everything about me is going to be so alive.'_

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 ***indecipherable screeching* HENLO IT'S YA GRILL FROM THE BMC DISCORD SERVER AND I'M SERVING Y'ALL SOME HEAVY SHIT**


	2. Michael?

**I just gotta say this now: it's some hardcore shit. Like, _really_ hardcore shit. Don't say I didn't warn you. ****Disclaimer: I don't own Be More Chill**

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Jeremy downed the bottle and stood. And waited. Nothing happened.

With his head hung and spirits lower than before, he walked home. Once in his room, he let his backpack fall to the floor as he flopped onto his bed. Nothing. The squip was never there, speaking to him in the first place. It was just his imagination.

 _Wrong. Only the first start up procedure hurts that much._

Keanu Reeves appeared next to Jeremy, sitting on his bed.

 _For once, you made a good choice._

Jeremy didn't move. Keanu sighed.

 _This was to be expected. Look. Michael was only holding you back. Without him in your way, it will be much easier to make amends with everyone in school._

Keanu closed his eyes.

 _As long as he doesn't blab about what happened._

 _'What are you implying...'_

 _I'm saying we should shut him up._

 _'...What?'_

 _God, you're an idiot. Kill him. Or torture him._

 _'...I can't do that.'_

 _Maybe you can't. But I can._

Keanu disappeared with a smirk. Jeremy looked confused until he suddenly started screaming and writhing in pain.

Jeremy stopped. Everything went still. Then, slowly, he picked himself up. A wicked grin was plastered onto his face. His eyes were glowing an electric blue.

 ** _"Time to get to work!"_**

Jeremy could still see the outside world. But he- oh god, he couldn't move.

 _'No worries, Jeremy. I took control for you!'_

 _...you what?_

Jeremy's laugh echoed through the room. Except... he didn't laugh...

 _'I basically swapped our consciousnesses.'_

 _Let me out!_

 _'Not yet. Once I have killed Michael or have him trapped and tortured, maybe.'_

 _NO!_

 _'Why do you insist on stopping me?! Michael basically threw you away!'_

 _I don't care! He's still my friend!_

"Deactivate." Jeremy's voice rang through the room before everything went black for the actual Jeremy. He was trapped inside his own head. By himself.

What fun.

After a panic attack including screaming, crying, running from nothing into nothing, and trying to break the darkness, a voice rang out.

 _His_ voice.

"Activate."

Jeremy's vision was immediately flooded with colors. But... not pretty ones.

Jeremy wanted to throw up. He had a feeling the squip was preventing him from doing so.

He wasn't sure where he was. Or what he was wearing. He was aware of the red, hot sticky liquid that stained the odd clothes. He was aware of the hunched over figure of someone tied up in a chair. The silhouette of a cart. The soft dripping sound. All of it made him feel sick.

 _Go turn on the lights and see what I did for you._

Jeremy's legs took him across the room without his consent. Like a puppet. His puppet master pulled the strings and made him turn on the lights. Puppet master forced him to hold back his vomit.

Right as light flooded the room, the person in the chair jolted awake. Their screams were muffled by a cloth that was shoved into their mouth. They were stripped down to their underwear. But oh god...

They had metal things piercing their body all around. Knives, forks, skewers, screwdrivers, drills...

Their skin looked very torn up as well.

A dozen small sizzling sounds came from the few metal pieces that were heated up before they were harshly shoved in. A thin red line went around their neck, telling the story of them being choked. Words were carved into the parts of their skin that weren't pierced.

"Loser"

"Wimp"

"Nobody"

Jeremy was forced to walk and stand in front of the mystery person. He didn't want to see their face. No. No, he can't. _No..._

But he was forced to.

And the poor soul was none other than...

Michael Mell.

 _You think I'm nice enough to leave it at that?_

Disbelief tinged Keanu's voice.

 _'Oh god, no, no no no! Please, no!'_

 _I made him mute._

 _'...What?'_

 _Yep. Burned off his tongue._

Jeremy wanted to scream. He wasn't sure if he did or not, because all he could hear was the insane laughter coming from his squip.

Tears fell from his eyes. No, this- this isn't what he wanted. There has to be a way to make it all better, _there has to be!_

 _'And there is...'_

Just... he has to get rid of his squip again. Then he'll be free. That's easy enough...

 _A puppet that cuts its strings falls limply to the floor._

 _'I don't care.'_

Jeremy looked around the room. Blood was smeared on every wall. It made his stomach do somersaults.

A wire.

Something clicked inside of Jeremy's head. If... If Michael has a thin red line around his neck... then... there has to be a wire somewhere...

 _Jeremy._

"Deactivate." Jeremy said with a raspy voice. He probably did scream then...

He rummaged through the tools on the push table, hoping to find the wire. Michael was shaking in his chair, whimpering. It only made Jeremy's resolve grow and made him search faster.

 _The wires got the best of him..._

 _'God, I don't need music right now!'_

Every time something dropped to the floor, Michael would flinch. It didn't make Jeremy go any slower. He needed to find it. His hand brushed over something thin. His eyes glided over to his hand and he smiled lightly. Here it is. The wire. The thing he'll use to end it all. Jeremy made a noose with the wire. This is it. He never thought it would end like this... crazy. He tied the other end of the wire to a pipe on the ceiling, climbed onto the almost empty push cart and stuck his head through the loop. This is it.

Jeremy took one step off of the cart. His other foot immediately pushed the cart away and he hung there. The wire cut into his neck as his body automatically gasped for air. Michael stared at him with wide, fearful eyes. God, it hurts to see him like that...

Jeremy smiled as his world began to grow dark. Finally... he was free...

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 **Before you guys spam me about killing Jer and torturing Michael, WAIT FOR THE NEXT UPDATE! I'm not done with this story... ;)  
~grill**


	3. Am I dead or not?

**Yo, guess who's back to bring you guys more heartbreak? Me! Grill! Ha! (I'm also posting this story on Ao3, so ye.)** **Disclaimer: I don't own Be More Chill (sadly), all I have are my angsty ideas and three am aus.**

Jeremy opened his eyes. Is this death?

...No. There was something wrong. He felt something wet and soft pressing against his face. His body was shaking. His nostrils were filled with an awful stench. His mouth had the taste of acid and sugar in it.

He lifted himself up with trembling arms. His body screamed at him to lay back down but he didn't listen. He opened his eyes again and looked around the room.

Room?

Oh. So he was right, this isn't death.

He noticed this looked just like his room. Strange.

'His' pillow was damp. Jeremy picked it up and took a whiff of it. It smelled of his shampoo, sweat, and a lot like salt. So, tears, probably. His face, he noticed as he looked into a mirror, was marked with tear tracks and his eyes were red.

Maybe this was his pillow? He looked at his computer and decided to check his browser history. He barely deletes it, anyways. As he put a foot onto the ground, he stepped in a puddle of something disgusting. Warm. Small chunks of something in it. Liquidy. He looked down and saw a puddle of what probably was his own vomit. That's why he had such a foul taste in his mouth. And that's where the smell came from.

He crinkled his nose and avoided stepping into the puddle with his other foot. He made his way to what might be his computer and turned it on. He put in his password and opened his browser. He checked his browser history and- yep, would you look at that. Hm, not going to describe that, but it's... definitely his. Nobody else would- ah, whatever.

Suddenly, he had a crazy idea. What if... what if all of that shit was just a dream?

His heart pounded as he stumbled towards his phone. He unlocked it after one or two tries. He scrolled through his small contact list and selected the one displaying "Michael Mell". He took a shaky breath and hit the "call" button. He held the phone to his ear as the speaker rang softly.

It took a few rings but eventually someone picked up.

"Michael?!" Jeremy almost screamed into the microphone.

 _I don't need no one but you right now._

"Dude, what are you doing calling me at 2:30am? I was asleep... wait. Did you have a bad dream or something? A panic attack?"

 _Oh, my friend, you're holding out your hand._

"I- god, Michael, you don't know how happy I am to hear your voice... can you... come over?"

 _I take it like an oar from the depths._

"...I'll be there in five."

 _Hey, life saver,_

"Please don't hang up..."

 _I'm drowning in despair._

"Why would I? I mean, I am pretty pissed you ignored me for three fucking months, but I'll let that fly. I'm just happy to hear something from you..."

 _But you're fighting for me right until the end._

"Michael..."

"Save the explanation for when I'm there, Player Two."

Jeremy was silent as he listened to Michael's pounding footsteps. It wasn't him talking, but at least it was something to break the silence. He fell to the floor. His legs refused to hold him any longer. A few minutes later, a soft knock came from the other side of Jeremy's door. Of course Michael had a key to Jeremy's house, why wouldn't he? He needs to be able to get in no matter what, he just can't remember where they keep the spare key if he's worried. But that's off topic.

Jeremy tried to stand up, but his legs still couldn't hold up his weight. He crashed to the floor.

Michael opened the door slowly as his eyes widened.

" _Holy shit..._ dude, what happened...? Oh god." Michael kneeled next to Jeremy and helped him sit up properly. Michael took in the state of his best friend and wanted to sob. Red eyes, tear tracks marking his face, vomit on his shirt and a little around his mouth, messed up hair, shaking like he's freezing... Michael laid a hand on Jeremy's forehead. Yep. A fever too.

Michael slowly removed his hand from Jeremy's forehead.

"Can... Can you tell me what happened?" Michael asked shakily. He didn't want to know but he felt like it was his job to listen.

Jeremy took a shaky breath. It felt impossible to put that god awful nightmare into words, but he tried.

"It was like- _god_ Michael... I was avoiding you like the last three months and... you stuck a note to my locker like the other people but yours was _different_ and I tried to talk to you I- I tried to apologize but... you shoved me off and-" Jeremy started to cry again. "And I was a total _idiot_ and reactivated my squip and it- it took control and..." Jeremy dry heaved onto the floor. Michael rubbed small circles on his back. Once Jeremy was done he continued to tell Michael about the dream, "Michael, it- it kidnapped you and tortured you and-" more dry heaving. "it was... so... bloody. You were- I- it just-" Jeremy choked on his words. "I don't ever want to see _that_ again..."

Jeremy continued to cry. He didn't dare look at Michael.

 _'I fucked up, I fucked up, I fucked up, no way he still wants to be friends! It may have been a nightmare but **my brain** made it, it hurt him!'_

Michael looked at his friend with pain etched onto his face.

 _'Is this why he was avoiding me? To not hurt me like this? Why? Did he think he's a burden? God, why didn't I **notice** something?!'_

Michael suddenly wrapped Jeremy up in a tight hug. Jeremy's wailing stopped, but silent tears still fell down his face.

 _'What...'_

Jeremy choked back more sobs. Relief spread through his body and let his tense muscles relax. Michael forgave him.

 _'He still cares.'_

Jeremy smiled slightly before he continued to sob. But they were tears of joy.

 _You've pulled me back to land, and saved me once again!_

They sat there in each other's embrace for a while. Jeremy pulled away first.

"Michael, I'm-"

"Sorry, yeah, I'm pretty sure I got it the first time." Michael laughed.

Jeremy's alarm suddenly rang, scaring them both. Were they really hugging that long? Jeremy hit the snooze button, but the alarm didn't stop. His head suddenly felt like it was set on fire from the inside. He gripped his head and stumbled backwards and-

 **:3c Cliffie! Thanks for reading (*internal screaming*)**


	4. Confrontation

**hhhhHHHHHHOWDY HEERE'S AN UPDATE!!!** -~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

Jeremy opened his eyes.

...Wait. _What?_

 _'I swear to fucking god, if this is like that one movie "Inception" or whatever, I'm gonna scream.'_

His head still felt like it was on fire. Once his eyes adjusted, he could see he was either leaning against a wall or on the floor. He saw a door on the other side of the room and it was sideways, so better judgement says he was laying on the floor. A metallic and acidic smell invaded his nostrils. It made him want to throw up the non-exsisting contents of his stomache. His alarm was still blairing.

 _'So that's why...'_

Jeremy tried to push himself up, but he slipped on something and he crashed back down to the floor with a _splash._ He groaned and tried to push himself up but slower. Once he was upright, he crawled over to the alarm and smashed the Off button. No way he was going to try and walk, nope. Jeremy looked at where he presumed he laid before. Oh. _Fuck._

That stuff he was laying in? Vomit. And blood. _Shit that's a lot of blood!_

Jeremy swallowed a lump in his throat. What the _fresh fuck is going on around he(e)re?!_ He took off his shirt and- fuck, yep, bloody and full of vomit. This is perfectly fine, yep, no reason not to panic-

But he was still panicing.

Fucking.

 _Great._

Jeremy's breathing picked up as he remembered what happened. _This is that one movie._

Jeremy shook as he took everything in. The Mountain Dew Red bottle lay on the floor, almost empty. It probably had the mixture in it...

Where did the blood come from. _That_ was the important question. Jeremy slowly let his eyes gaze at his arms and- fuck. He fucking knew it.

His arms were bleeding from the scratches and- fuck, his cuts are open again. They were still bleeding and they stung like hell, now that he thought about it. Probably because of the vomit. Jeremy bit his lip and held back more tears. It's time for school.

It's time to face the music.

Jeremy took a quick shower to get rid of that awful stench. He'll clean up the vomit in his room once he gets back from school.

 _'S long as dad doesn't become an actual parent and tries to clean it up with a lecture for me once I get home._ _...heh..._ _That's not gonna happen.'_

Jeremy frowned as he looked into the slightly foggy mirror of the bathroom. A skeletal face was staring back at him with sunken, dull, red eyes. He splashed cold water into his face.

 _'Oh yeah that totally helped.'_

Jeremy silently cursed the sarcastic part of himself as he pulled his shirt over his head. Once he fully changed, he grabbed his backpack and rushed downstairs. There wasn't much time left, so he made poptarts for himself.

 _'What else is there **to** do?'_

The poptart popped out of the toaster and Jeremy grabbed it. Bad idea. He tossed it from hand to hand because _fuck its hot!_

 _'Well, no shit Sherlock, it literally just came out of the toaster!'_

 _'...Shut up me.'_

Jeremy ran out of the door with the still not cold poptart in one hand.

He arrived just in time for the bus to arrive. "Heh. Nice." Jeremy gave a small smile and climbed in. He immediately went to the back of the bus and sat down, stairing out the window and occasionally taking a bite out of the still hot poptart.

He filed out along with the other students and made his way to the entrance while avoiding grasping fingers, stuck out legs and random fists. It became a routine of sorts. They attack, he avoids.

He made it to his locker without any injuries besides a small scratch under his right eye. _Damn,_ Madeleine keeps her nails _sharp._ At least it stopped bleeding. Jeremy sighed and tore all of the notes off his locker. He didn't check for "the special one", so to say. He was finally going to put an end to this madness. Face-to-face. No turning back.

Jeremy sighed and grabbed the needed books from his locker. He softly closed it and turned around. Multiple people were glairing at him. He closed his eyes and searched for Michael in the crowd of students. White headphones, red hoodie...

What if he's sick?

What if he doesn't want to talk?

What if he... what if the dream dream happens?

Jeremy pinched his wrist. Wait. He felt pain in his dreams, so maybe this is a dream too...

What if it is?

He shook his head and made up his mind again. He has to do this. He has to.

Jeremy caught a glimpse of white in the crowd, paired with red. He followed the colors until the whole person showed up.

Michael.

Jeremy split the crowd with difficulty, what with them all tripping him and scratching him. He eventually got to Michael and everyone caught on to what he was trying to do. They formed a circle around the two so that neither could escape. Michael stood in front of the crowd, unmoving.

Jeremy stared at Michael intently. Waiting for him to turn around. And he did. His eyes were dull and lifeless, they had no shine to them. Dead.

Just like his heart, probably.

 _'Fuck off.'_

Jeremy swallowed the lump in his throat and-

"Words fail. There's really nothing I can say to explain this mess I created. I just- I don't _know_ anymore. I though you wouldn't want to be friends with me. So I just tried to pretend that everything is fine! I tried to pretend I'm something better than these broken parts. To pretend I'm something other than this- this _mess_ that I am..."

Jeremy trembled as he held back his tears.

"I should have said something. I know I- I just couldn't and I don't know why! I'm sorry..."

Michael looked at Jeremy with a blank expression. Jeremy scanned Michael's face, looking for any sign of emotion. He held on to the hope of forgiveness.

"You _should_ have said something, Heere."

Michael turned to face the crowd. They split so that he could leave and he did. He didn't look back.

Jeremy fell to his knees. His tears fell freely now. He curled up into a ball as he softly grieved. He had nothing left to live for. He began to scratch at his arms, even though his cardigan and the bandages were blocking his path.

 _'Stop it. Take off your cardigan and the bandages. Scratch at your skin. You deserve it.'_

The voice was right. He did deserve that pain.

He slowly shrugged off his cardigan. He carefully unwrapped the bandages. Everyone watched with curious eyes. He let the bloody gauze fall to the floor. His cuts and scratches were still bleeding lightly. He dragged his nails over them and let his salty tears fall into the open wounds. It hurt. It hurt. But not as much as hearing Michael's words repeat in his head, over and over and _over and over and over and **over.**_ _'Make it stop._ _Let it stop._ _Someone... anyone... help.'_

 **SO**

 **CLIFFHANGERS AMIRITE**

 **updates are slow as fuck and im sorry :( but plot holes and stuff,**

 **also take a bonus (a discord pal sent this):**

 **how to get ready for school with Jeremy:**

 **step one: cover yourself in vomit and blood**

 **step two: self harm**

 **step three: cry**

 **step four: get professional help**


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